


The Covered Wagon

by Toad1



Series: A Horse With No Name [12]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4754522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toad1/pseuds/Toad1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wagon train full of travelers rolls into the Zones. As the owner of the best supply shop in Zone One, Tommy Chow Mein has to make some hard decisions--and Cherri Cola, his sole employee, isn't happy with the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Covered Wagon

A woman in a traveling cloak stumbled into the office, a baby shrieking in her arms. “Oh, good God,” Chow Mein said, wincing at the noise. “I’m sorry,” the woman said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry.” She collapsed into the chair and frantically shushed the baby. The baby howled as if its limbs were on fire, its face red and wrinkled like an overripe tomato.  
  
A man with a tattered hat stuck his head in the doorway. “Mind if I smoke in here?” he said above the din.  
  
“Yes, I do,” Chow Mein said.  
  
The man grumbled and turned back to the shop. Travelers crowded the store, dressed in tattered coats, wool sweaters, skirts that swayed around their feet. They took items off shelves, fingered scraps of fabric, bartered with Cherri Cola at the counter, and flipped through magazines, pointing and murmuring to each other. Metal buckets hung at their sides, casting silver glints on the floor.  
  
The woman soothed and rocked the baby, then slipped her finger in its mouth. The baby’s shrieks quieted to sobs, then died to whimpers and gurgles. The woman sank back in her chair and smiled at Chow Mein with relief. He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands.  
  
“All right,” he said. “What do you need?”  
  
“We need baby formula,” she said. “That boy at the front desk couldn’t find any, but he said you might have some in the back rooms.”  
  
Chow Mein took a leatherbound journal from the stack of folders on his desk. He flipped through the pages of inventory until he came to the baby formula listing.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said. “We’ve been out of stock for a month.”  
  
The woman’s face drained. “Are you kidding me?”  
  
“I’m not,” he said. “Pregnancies are rare. I haven’t seen a live baby in six months.”  
  
“What are we supposed to do?” she said her voice rising. “Half these towns don’t have formula, and if they do, it’s dated before the pre-war years. I ran out of formula yesterday, and no one can find any, and she can’t breastfeed--”  
  
“All right,” Chow Mein said, sensing a breakdown. “That’s enough. Listen. There’s a town twenty minutes south of here. From what I’ve heard today, it’s on your route.”  
  
“What if they don’t have anything?” she said. “No disrespect, sir, but I’ve been through a lot of ghost towns.”  
  
“Then talk to the farmers,” he said. “We have livestock farmers in the area. I know it’s not ideal--” He raised a hand before she could speak. “Some farmers make goat’s milk formula. I’m not a medic, I can’t tell you how healthy it is. But I’ve seen women raise their infants on it.”  
  
The woman recoiled. “Goat’s milk?” she said. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I can’t give her that.”  
  
“Then maybe you should go to Battery City,” Chow Mein said. “Because all I’ve been hearing today is that you need supplies that I don’t have.”  
  
The woman fell silent. After agreeing to check the stores in town, she hurried out the door, the baby stirring and whimpering in her arms. The man with the tattered hat poked his head in the doorway. Chow Mein gestured for him to come inside, then shut the door behind him as the baby once again started to wail.  
  
Two days ago, Dr. Death Defying reported that a wagon train had been spotted outside the Zones. The wagons rumbled across the desert plains until they hit the highway, then found a neutral aide to help them avoid hostile Killjoys and gang territory. The wagon train cut through the Zones, some passengers staying in various towns and settlements, and others continuing the journey into Zone One, where they stopped at the first supply store on their route.  
  
Each traveler carried a metal bucket with the goods they wanted to trade: rope, pots and pans, silverware, fabric scraps, tools, matches. One woman carried a bucket full of glass bottles that she had collected alongside the road. Their skin was dry and tough like a wavehead’s, and spattered with dust. Dirt had settled into the folds of their clothing. Chow Mein counted five children and two babies in the crowd. Perhaps fertility rates were higher in Arizona.  
  
At noon, Party Poison drove up with a basket of food donated by the local bar. The travelers hurried outside, swarming on the food like ants. While Cherri took the opportunity to grab some supplies from the back room, Chow Mein took up the front desk. Aside from the muffled shouts and laughter outside, the store was quiet. The only customers were an elderly man slowly turning the magazine rack, and a girl digging in a barrel. Sandals dangled from her bare feet as she ducked down inside.  
  
Finally, the girl straightened and headed to the desk, clutching cans of food in her arms. Her raggedy skirt trailed along the floor.  
  
“Excuse me, sir,” she said. Her voice was rough. “I’m looking to buy these, please.”  
  
As she dumped the cans on the desk, Cherri stepped back into the room with a box under his arm. Supplies clanked around inside: tin cans, bottles, boxes of soap. He dropped the box on a nearby bench and started stocking the shelves.  
  
“Well, it’s safe to assume you don’t have any carbons,” Chow Mein said to the girl. “Are you looking to trade?”  
  
“I don’t have anything to trade, sir,” the girl said. “I was hoping I could pay it back later.”  
  
“You don’t have anything?” he said. “Clothes, books? Matches?”  
  
“No sir,” she said. “I sold it all off on the way here.”  
  
“How long have you been traveling?”  
  
“About a month, sir.”  
  
“Where are your parents? Are you traveling alone?”  
  
“Yes sir. My parents are somewhere back in Tucson.”  
  
_Staying home while their daughter travels alone across the states,_ he thought. “I see,” he said. “Well, I’m sorry. I don’t give supplies on credit.”  
  
“I’ll pay it back!” she said. “I’m just going to my cousin’s house. I’ll get some money from her. I swear.”  
  
“Your cousin doesn’t have food?”  
  
“I won’t get there for a few days.”  
  
“What about the adults you’ve been traveling with? They won’t feed you?”  
  
“I’m going off by myself, sir.”  
  
“You’re going off by yourself.”  
  
“Yes sir. When the wagons hit down, I’m going to take off to my cousin’s house.”  
  
“Wait,” Cherri said. He turned away from the shelves. “What’s going on? Are you traveling by yourself?”  
  
The girl explained that her cousin lived several miles away in the Painted Valley. It was too far off the route for the wagon train to drive her there, so she would travel by herself, hitchhiking and walking along the highway and staying at whatever houses she came by. She had been on her own for a long time, she assured them.  
  
Cherri folded his arms and listened, his brow knit with concern. When the story was over, he turned back to the desk.  
  
“Tom, we’ve gotta give her the food,” he said. Chow Mein started to speak, but he pushed on. “She’s just a kid. She’s looking at a two-day trip, and that’s if she manages to hitch a ride. We can’t send her out there with nothing.”  
  
“Why not?” Chow Mein said. “The child is not our responsibility.”  
  
“Someone needs to take responsibility,” Cherri said. “She’s been her own for weeks, Tom. Someone has to look after her.”  
  
“Is that person going to be you?” Chow Mein said. “Are you going to take a four-day trip to the Painted Valley and back?”  
  
“No, but I can give her supplies. You can take it out of my paycheck, I don’t care. Just let me give her something.”  
  
“She’ll find supplies on the way,” Chow Mein said. “Whether it’s in town, or from one of the farmers. No one’s going to let her starve.”  
  
“Except you?” Cherri said before he could stop himself. “Except us? Right?”  
  
Chow Mein coolly held his gaze. Cherri took a few deep breaths, his mouth clamped shut in anger. Then he gestured for the girl to follow him and headed for the entrance. The door swung open, momentarily filling the shop with the sound of a chanting game, then slammed shut behind them like the lid of a tomb.  
  
\---  
  
When the sun had started to set behind the mountains, the travelers mounted the wagons and started back down the road. Cherri stood at the store entrance, watching the wagons hobble and creak off into the distance. Then he headed back inside. Orangish evening light cast through the windows as he swept the sand out onto the sidewalk. After a day of noise and activity, the store seemed eerily quiet.  
  
“Cherri,” Chow Mein said from the office. “Come here. I need to talk to you.”  
  
Cherri stopped sweeping. His shoulders sank. He entered the office and sank into the chair like a child reporting to the principal’s office. The air was heavy with foreboding.  
  
“How much did you give that girl this afternoon?” Chow Mein said.  
  
Cherri rubbed a hand across his face. “Which one?” he said.  
  
“You know exactly what girl I mean,” he said. “How much did you give her?”  
  
“A couple of cans and a pound of beans,” Cherri said quietly. “It’s all right. I’ll cover it with food from my own supply.”  
  
Chow Mein sighed and shook his head as if he had caught Cherri stealing money from the cash register. The action stirred something inside of him.  
  
“All right, look,” Cherri said, sitting up in his seat. “Tom, you know I don’t question what you do. You know I’ve always tried to respect your decisions. But I don’t understand how you can keep turning away these starving people. I’ve been all over the Zones, and I’m telling you, man, places like this are their last hope. It was the last hope for me. If we let them walk out with nothing, it might be the end of the line for them.”  
  
“I’m aware of that,” Chow Mein said. “Believe me, Cherri, I’ve had calls and letters over the years. I’ve received death threats. I’ve had a woman try to sell me her infant daughter. I know what they think of me when I turn them away. And yes, it’s difficult. It’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. But if this business went under, it would mean death for a lot of people. Death, or a return to the city, which is more likely.”  
  
“But you can give them something,” Cherri said. “I know you can’t clear out your storage, but--just give them a couple of cans. Something to get them through the day.”  
  
“If I do it for one customer, I’ll have to do it for all of them,” Chow Mein said. “You underestimate how quickly word travels in the Zones.”  
  
“But what about the ones that offer to pay you back? We see this every week, Tom. Someone just needs a little food to get through the rest of the week, and you turn them down every time.”  
  
“They won’t pay us back,” Chow Mein said. “They’ll keep coming back and making excuses. That, or they’ll skip town and leave us holding the bill.”  
  
“You don’t know that,” Cherri said. “All right, I know some of them are sleazebags, but I’ve known some of these guys for years. They’re trustworthy.”  
  
“Most people break trust if they get desperate,” he said.  
  
Cherri sighed and slumped back in his seat. “Tom, I respect you, man, but--you’re being cynical.”  
  
“Son, I’ve been here a lot longer than you have,” Chow Mein said. “I’ve seen a lot of competitors rise and fall over the years. And the one thing they all had in common was that they were sloppy. They didn’t keep records. They let people walk away with merchandise. And when their stores went under, the people didn’t know what to--” He stopped. “Good Lord. Are you crying? Don’t do that.”  
  
Cherri smiled despite himself. “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his face. “I was just thinking that I used to be in that situation. Every week I went to all the stores in the area, asking for free food.”  
  
“Did they ever turn you away?” Chow Mein said.  
  
“Yeah. Some of them did. They could tell right away I was a wavehead.”  
  
“But you survived. Being turned away at a store isn’t a death sentence.”  
  
“For me, it wasn’t,” Cherri said. “But other people aren’t going to be so lucky, you know?”  
  
Chow Mein shook his head. “You’re still too young to understand,” he said. “When you and the rest of these Killjoys grow up, you’re going to realize that you can’t keep living in the moment.”  
  
With a note of finality in his voice, he opened a drawer and hefted a bulky radio on the desk. As he started to make his final calls for the night, Cherri stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him. The sky outside the windows was deep blue. He propped his elbow on the windowsill and cradled his head in his hand, watching the road as if he could see the wagon train in the distance, creaking along down the highway.


End file.
